


Nightminds

by Finn4



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:15:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24623821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Finn4/pseuds/Finn4
Summary: Annie and Finnick are reunited after her rescue from the Capitol. And while the rest of the world focuses on Kathiss and Peeta, they fight to regain their sanity and relationship the only way they know how...with only each other. And this time...it’s complicated.*TAKING A BREAK FROM UPDATING THIS ONE UNTIL I FEEL INSPIRED TO FINISH IT!*
Relationships: Annie Cresta/Finnick Odair
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter One: Finnick’s POV

1

The door closes behind us and I’m still so wrapped up in her hair that I am barely aware of it latching. I’m supposed to be helping her get clean but I don’t want to put her down. I don’t want to separate from her. It’s like, having even an inch of space between us is just an inch that someone can use against us. And I can’t let that happen again.

She’s whispering my name and at first it alarms me because it seems compulsive. Obsessive. Like Wiress and her tic-toc, Annie can fall into echolalic patterns of word repetition for hours at a time. But this isn’t that. I think she is just vocalizing the things I am feeling, too. That need to remind herself that I am actually very much here. With her.

I sit her down on the bunk in a solitary room no doubt reserved for quarantine patients, but now it’s outfitted with clean bedding and a supply bag for her. I gently ease her into the bunk next to it, but unwilling and unable to let her go I simply sink onto my knees before her, her legs still fastened around my hips even as she settles into the cool sheets of the bed. She’s quieted now, so I release my forehead from it’s place on hers.

We stare at each other, suddenly aware that we have both been silently crying into one another. I raise my hands and gently sweep my thumbs across the pink of her cheeks and keep her face cupped in my hands. She’s so...beautiful. Maybe I was afraid to look at her face for fear of what I might see in it. But her cheeks are pink and warm, her mouth is parted and full...eyes glazed and smiling. From the brief glimpse I got of Peeta and Johanna...Annie seems relatively unscathed.

“Did they...hurt you?” I can barely speak the words because I know I don’t want to know the answers.

She shakes her head no emphatically, choking back a delicate sob as she raises her hands to my face.

“What?” I ask her quietly. She is stroking the sides of my face, her fingers in the damp hair at my temples, her eyes making their way over my face, and tears streaming from the corners of her eyes even as she fights them so hard she shakes.

“Annie...what did they do to you?”

She swallows hard, pressing her forehead back against mine. I hear her inhale sharply. Her voice is soft but sure as she speaks the only words I have heard her say that aren’t my name.

“They didn’t hurt me. Finnick, I promise. Not me.”

I run my fingers into her hair until they brace the back of her head and I pull her to me, our foreheads together again. She pulls back slightly, just enough to raise her chin and gently kiss my forehead. I close my eyes to the feel of her warm lips on my skin. 

“Finnick” she whispers. And even with my eyes closed I can tell she is crying again. She pulls back and I open my eyes. Staring at her until it hurts.

“You’re safe now. I’m here.” I pull from her only slightly to make a reach for her bag and the change of clothes it holds. But she grabs at my forearm, keeping me too close to move towards it. I look at her with slight confusion and gesture cautiously towards the bag. She’s looking at me with eyes I haven’t seen. Eyes that are full of fear, concern and paranoia to be sure. And from that I am used to talking her down. But there’s something else there.

Apology. Regret. And worst of all...pity.

I brush it off. I try to smile at her with just one corner of my mouth and gently pull my hand from her so I can lean long enough to reach her bag. With one hand I flip the top open.

“What do we have here? Let’s get your into some new...”

I start to talk to her, mostly to explain what I’m doing to calm her. But I notice it’s my fingers that are shaking and not hers. I’m concentrating on stilling them even as she interrupts me mid sentence.

“I saw it.”

Her voice is sad. Broken even. And I stop cold at the sound of it. I don’t want to ask her what she saw and I think it’s because I already know. I turn to face her and ask with my eyes hoping that maybe my voice won’t have to.

She is nodding yes and tears are streaming down her cheeks. She takes her hand from my arm and wipes her face. Desperate to control her sadness, but wholly unable to.

I try to whisper her name and the sound won’t come. I mouth the word but the sound...won’t...come.

“It was playing on the hovercraft as we left.”

Annie saw my propo. And not just my propo. But me telling the whole world what I had done. What I had become at the hands of Snow and his fucking Capitol. 

I had had to explain to Annie how I had killed, how she may have to...things she may have to do to other people who may or may not deserve it, just to stay alive like I had. But never until this moment have I ever felt ashamed in front of her. And now all I want to do is hide. I had vowed years ago that Annie would never know. Could never know. And now everyone knew. Which was hard. But Annie knowing? Feels unbearable. There’s a weight in my chest that is growing uncontrollably now.

Annie knows.

I pull back from her, allowing space to fall between us for the first time since seeing her return. And it alarms her. I’m fighting back tears now and struggling to look at her. Suddenly my head is so flooded with emotions that I can’t hear or see. A buzzing fills my ears and I hear myself wince but I can hardly place the sound of my own voice.

“Finnick, no...”

Annie sinks off the bunk until she is on her knees with me, and even as I rock back on my heels she is fighting to close the space between us. She takes my hands in hers and runs her thumbs over my palms whispering...hushing me. 

I lurch forward towards her and find her shoulder. I bury my head in it and no sooner do I find that place does she fold me into her arms and hold me there. Hushing me.

For as many nights I had spent in the Capitol: exhausted, spent, tortured, sore, curled in a bed praying for sleep and wishing she were there...now she is an I’m too ashamed to even look at her. And she doesn’t know the half of it. The things I had done to people. Or things people had done to me. The grotesque nature of it is so magnified now. Sitting in the arms of this simple girl. Rocking back and forth. Knowing she couldn’t possibly imagine. And I don’t want her to. 

“Finnick look.” Her voice is confident. A strange confidence that I can’t recall hearing from her. I take a few breaths and make her repeat it.

“Finnick. Please look at me,”

Her voice is begging and she puts her hands on my shoulders. Pushing me back from her until I have no choice but to be face to face with her. She is stoic. Stealing her pain. And in a shift in the universe for us it is Annie Cresta who has to be strong. For me.

“I’m here. You’re safe.”

She’s using my words. And...they are working. 

For years I have endured whatever I had to in the hopes that I would have this moment with her. To be back with her in my arms and to be able to protect her in a way that is normal...expected. What people in love do for each other. But I never imagined it clouded by her knowing what I had become. But I can see in her eyes, as she holds them fixed to mine, that she is strong enough in this moment to handle whatever it is I am throwing at her. And to handle me in the meantime.

And, for the first time in too long a time, I break down. I think of Mags. The only other person in the world who took care of me. Who was strong for me. Who gave up her life without hesitation. For Annie and me. I think of Annie. What has become of us. What is still to come. And it washes over me like a hot red wave. Annie pulls me into her lap as she sits back against the bunk and cradles me in her lap as she strokes my back. I can feel myself falling asleep under the weight of my emotions. And for the first time in years...I don’t fight it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Two: Annie’s POV

2

Being trapped in your own mind is pretty horrific. There have been times when I have been desperate to speak or to grasp what is going on around me and my body - no. My consciousness. - simply forbids me. I remember swimming under water and screaming in the Games. Trying so desperately to hide from the carnage around me because I could feel it stealing my sanity. I could feel it slipping away. In that moment I remember thinking of Finnick but praying for death anyway.

But never has it angered me more than it does now. With Finnick falling apart in my lap and feeling so incredibly powerless to help him. Every word I mutter to him takes Herculean strength. The strength with which he has always handled me. The strength that I know now he has had to fake, for me. 

And I am helpless. 

I watch his green eyes, glazed over and still unable to look at me, start to flutter to sleep and I wonder how long it’s been since he’s had a night of rest. Real. Rest.

Once they lay closed I shut mine as well and grit my teeth. I am silently making deals with whatever God there is to please help me. Help me in this moment to regain control of my mind so that I can help him. I’m muttering words, and while that would usually embarrass me, it doesn’t. Because they are the words I AM CHOOSING. Maybe it’s seeing him in a way I never have, but I am fighting hard with myself to be there for him. And I’m winning.

“Please let me take care of him. Please...hold...it...together...”

With every word I feel a strength grow. I know what I’ve become. The crazy girl from Four. The sweet little girl that lost her mind and oh, how handsome Finnick Odair just loves her so...he refuses to leave her behind. When I know that everyone thinks he should. When even I think he should.

But never, not once, has he even entertained it. 

Not when I thrash around screaming uncontrollably. Not when I cry for days on end. Not since the moment he ran for me after my rescue from the arena, scooped me into his strong arms and promised me I was safe. Not when I harm him without meaning to.

And just like that I’m snapped back into reality. 

Harm him. 

And for the first time I’m seeing him like Mags saw him. The wounded fourteen year old boy whose false bravado masked a pain that at even a young age he refused to take on. A boy that volunteered as tribute because he thought he had nothing to lose. Who clearly had no idea of what the Capitol had planned for him.

I can barely stand it. The thought of it. I close my eyes and I hear his words replaying over and over in my head. The Capitol selling him to the highest bidder. For years. 

Years. 

The years where I would beg him, selfishly, not to go. Beg him, desperately, to stay with me in Four. Thrash and hit and scream and kick him. Spit at him and swear I knew that he was leaving me because he was ashamed of me and wanted the company of his Capitol girlfriends instead. 

God, Finnick. How can I take that all back.

I’m crying again and I don’t mind because it feels cleansing, until I realize that a few stray tears have rolled over the heat of my cheeks and fallen onto the side of Finnick’s as he lay half way between sleep and awake in my lap. 

I take a deep breath and resolve myself to cry some other time. While he sleeps I need to practice regaining some kind of coherent speech. 

“Finnick....I’m here.”

I manage. Good. It’s a start. He curls deeper into my lap. Fingertips twirling into my hospital gown. Good.

“You don’t have....” I pinch my eyes shut mercilessly and fight to let the words in my mind bubble to my lips, “You don’t have to...be....afraid....” 

Is afraid the word I wanted? No. But it’s close. It’s getting there. His head shifts a little and his brow furrows slightly. I run it with my fingertips in an effort to try to soothe it. His eyes flutter open gently and I can’t help but smile at the sight of them. He’s staring at my gown covered stomach, facing in towards me. So I gently move my fingertips from his brow, around the side of his strong (and clenched) jaw, and down over his chin so that I can tilt it up towards me.

I gently ease him off of my lap but only so that I can slink down into a mirrored position to face him on the floor. He takes my hand in his and we lay curled against the comfortingly cool concrete. Just watching each other. His thumb is weaving patterns over the top of my hand the way he always does and it calms me. He even lets the hint of a smile come across his face as he talk to me again:

“I’m so glad you’re safe. I didn’t know...”

I interrupt him before he has to engage himself with any ‘what ifs.’

“We’re safe. Both of us.” His face must match mine as he grins an approval not just for WHAT I said...but that I managed to say it so succinctly. I let myself just get lost in his incredible attractiveness, letting it soak over me. I move my body in closer to his and he moves an arm around my waist. I always feel so small tucked against him. 

Moved with the emotions of not just the past ten days but maybe the past ten years I find the strength to lift my head slightly to meet his, wetting my lips with my tongue just before they meet his. I close my eyes and await them falling warmly onto his. 

But before that happens I’m feeling his arm slink out from my waist and the warmth of his body leaving mine.

“We need to get you into these, I don’t know when they will be back for us.” 

His voice is solemn, he’s caretaker Finnick now and that is not the Finnick I need. For once.

I look up at him, only slightly wounded. And he turns to notice. He is standing over me as I lay still curled on the floor. He kneels and regains his hold of my hand. Thumbing it again as he smiles. 

“We’ll have time...”

He’s a liar. If he and I know anything. Learned anything from the Quarter Quell. It’s that we don’t have time. None of us. He leans over me and places a kiss gently on my forehead and then another one square on the top of my nose as I gently push back against his mouth. I close my eyes. And it hits me.

It hits me so hard. 

I let him help me to standing. He’s messing in the bag that had been left for us. Toothpaste, a comb, a grey jumpsuit. He’s pulling it all out and balling it in his fist. I watch him busy himself taking care of me...again...as I reach behind my neck to loosen my hospital gown, tossing my red hair over one shoulder so as not to tangle it. I undo the knot deftly with one hand and then let the gown slip soundlessly off my shoulders and to the ground.

Finnick turns slightly at the sound, and then completes the revolution towards me when he realized I’m completely naked. 

This is nothing new for Finnick, obviously, seeing me naked. One time we went to the fish market and while he was charming some onlookers and signing the papers of the young District Four residents who worship him as a God, for no good reason I took all my clothes off and sat in the middle of the road. My mind totally out of my own control. It wasn’t until he swept me up, covered in a burlap towel he got from who knows where and carried me back to my house in Victor’s Village that I even felt the shame and embarrassment of what I had done. He just bathed me and smiled and laughed about how I liked to keep him on his toes.

So my naked form is nothing new.

“Annie...?”

His voice is gentle and cautious and I realize that maybe he now associates my getting naked for no reason with a mental break. And rightfully so. But I need to let him know otherwise, and fast.

“Kiss me, Finnick.”

I am commanding him now with a confidence I wasn’t sure I had. But there’s also a coy pleading to my voice. I bite my lower lip as I watch him take in my words. He fumbles with the mess of clothes in his hands and I see him toying with the string that fastens the waist of my new jumpsuit. And he won’t look at me again. 

I take two steps into him and raise his chin, forcing him to look at me. My hair falling wildly over one shoulder like some kind of siren, I ask him again. Less commanding and more....begging.

“Please kiss me, Finnick.”

His eyes wander over my nakedness and it makes my skin hot even though I know it’s just helping him avoid my eyes. I do catch him stop to stare at my breasts before forcing himself shyly to look away. 

I take two more steps. Pushed completely against him now. His hands have little choice but to close in around the small of my back, and I coo at the feel of his open palm against my skin. Whether it’s on purpose or not he drops the jumpsuit at my side and rests the hand that held it gently on my hip. I’m close enough to him now that I can feel his heart pound and his breath is hot and heavy against my face. It warms my entire body in a way I can’t even describe. He leans into me and kisses me, his lips wet and warm and soft against....my cheek. I close my eyes to it. Kissing me almost the way a brother would.

My brow furrows almost painfully as I try to conceal my urge to cry. He drops to his knees to grab the pile of clothes that rests on the floor between us.

He won’t kiss me. And I am forced to watch a highlight reel in my mind of the times I’ve gotten a kiss on the hand, the cheek, the forehead, the shoulder, the nose. But never the mouth. And it never occurred to me until just this minute that’s he was telling me something. Hiding...something horrible.

I have no doubt that Finnick Odair loves me with his entire being. I have seen it and felt it and he has never stopped. And I know that he won’t. 

But as I feel him helping me step into my underwear and then the thick cool cotton of my new uniform I’m hearing his voice in my head again. Watching him in my mind as he laid his soul bare for all to see, again in the hopes of rescuing me, telling the whole world what he had been made to do. And then offering a list - even if it was only a partial one - of the people he had been made to do it with. All I can picture is some terrifyingly altered Capitol darling forcing her mouth and her body onto him and I can literally taste the bile in the back of my throat. I want to scream.

But I open my eyes and let them fall on the broken boy at my feet. Slowly lifting pants over my bare legs like he has done for years. Until he is standing before me, continuing to help me dress. I stop his hand before it zips my jumpsuit closed, effectively erasing the nakedness between us. In fact, I reach for the zipper and lower it again until it’s open past my navel. I take his hand and place it there, against the warm, soft flesh of my belly.

I’m not giving up on him.

“Finnick. I’m going to kiss you. If....” I’m losing my words but fighting so hard inside my own head I can feel my heart rate elevate, “if...if that’s...alright...”

I’m whispering and I don’t really know why. But I am going to kiss him. Heal him. Help him. Something. In whatever time we do have.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Three Flashback: Finnick POV  
> *explicit*

3

“Did you love Annie right away” Katniss asked. 

My answer wasn’t a lie. She crept up on me. When I met her, and the other tribute from District Four, it was my first year as a mentor. I was cocky. I had this feeling that somehow I could charm the Capitol into any gifts I needed to keep them alive. But I also knew that Annie, probably the best swimmer I had ever seen (and that is saying something) didn’t have a prayer. So I distanced myself from her. Not wanting to let her in knowing I was going to have to watch her die. 

But she got in. Her smile, her wit, the way she disarmed me and made me feel like...me. I fought it. I fought it so hard. But after watching her in the arena. Seeing her come completely unhinged by her fellow tributes decapitation inches from her and then only barely surviving by doing what she did best....swimming...I knew. I knew when I saw her surface from the flood waters that had drown the remaining tributes. I knew. And when they bought her screaming, writhing body into the hovercraft that I insisted on riding in, and I took her damp body, barely clinging to life, into my arms. I knew. The same way Katniss has known. When I thought I had lost her, I realized the lengths I would go to not to. That I had fallen in love with her. 

Just in time to watch her slip into madness. And lose parts of her in a way the arena couldn’t have prepared either of us for.

When we came back to the Victor’s Village, she and I became family. Along with Mags. It was the three of us. A shared bond and a shared trauma that no one else could ever understand. We were still young and still maneuvering a post Games existence, but somehow the three of us, under Mags expert guidance, had found a way to be...almost, normal.

And from Annie’s victory tour on, which was cut short because she couldn’t appear in public very long without an episode, I was by her side. Always. I would stroke her hand and she would whisper my name. And that was how we cared for one another. And it was enough. 

But I was pushing twenty. And what had started as a deep love for her was starting to bubble up in me as a passion for her. One that I had no idea could even be reciprocated. I would hold her gently at night until she could sleep. She would smile at me. I would tangle my fingers in her red hair and think about kissing her. But how do you kiss someone who is incapable of telling you that’s what they want? So while my daydreams of the sea started to turn into fantasies about Annie, I knew better. I hoped that someday, she’d come back. All of her. And that our time would come.

The night of my twenty first birthday started like any other. Mags had fished all day and she had prepared the kind of seafood feast most people could only dream of. She and Annie has worked together while I had some of the young school boys from the district further up the beach where I taught them how to snare and fish with a net.

By the time I arrived home (we had our own homes but basically all lived in Mags’) the table had been laid with a large paper cover and seafood and vegetables that Mags had secured sat spilling off of it. They were both pleased with their work, although quiet as usual as I came into the kitchen. Annie stood and ran to me, as she always did...as though I had been gone for years and not hours. I wrapped her tight in my arms and kissed the top of her head gently, lifting her head to laugh and wipe some flour from her face before leaning over to kiss Mags as she walked past us...carrying a tray of bread.

We washed and changed and sat around the table, positively gorging ourselves on food. Occasionally I would walk a lap around the table hoping to let my food settle...so I could eat more. I told them stories of the day, and they chuckled along quietly. Once in awhile Mags would mumble a story and I would interpret it for Annie. And likewise, Annie would attempt to recall a fond memory until the trappings of her mind made it difficult and I deflected her gently with a joke or a bite of food.

Of all the nights of my life, it might have been my favorite. Well, to start. 

That evening I laid in bed with Annie until she fell asleep curled up in my side. My heart had pounded as she looked at me with what seemed like want in her eyes. But I let the moment pass, unsure of myself enough to not take advantage of what I know now...was a window she was opening for me. She had only just drifted to sleep when Mags slipped in through the cracked door. And the look on her face alarmed me.

I slid out from Annie and Mags met me at the bed to tuck her in. She mumbled at me with wide eyes. Scared eyes. I had already begun to think about where I had weapons stored in the house.

Downstairs.

Capitol.

She told me there was a group from the Capitol and she was instructed not to come back down. I took her by the shoulders and assured her that everything would be fine. 

But I had no idea what fine even meant and I knelt to pull my fishing spear from under Annie’s bed and tucked it into my hand as I told Mags to stay with Annie and not let anyone through the door.

I slipped out and heard her lock it behind me. I eased nervously down the stairs and around the corner until I reached the great room of Mags’ home. 

It used to be one of my favorites.

There, in the picture window just past a large table that sat surrounded by chairs and books, was Snow. He was flanked by several guards who had busied themselves by pulling the heavy blue drapes closed across the windows. I tightened my grip on my spear and cleared my throat uneasily. Announcing my presence. All four of them turned and Snow smiled a sickeningly sweet smile that can make the hair on my neck stand up just thinking about it.

“Ahhh, Finnick Odair, it is...as always...a great pleasure to see you.”

Snow’s voice was so unsettling I could hardly respond. I let an uneasy amount of silence fall before I responded.

“Thank you, President Snow. Although I will say I am surprised to see you. Surely you didn’t travel all this way to wish me a happy birthday.”

I tried to convince myself that was, in fact, what it was. But I knew better. And I was fighting to try to hold onto the act that I knew by this time the Capitol expected of me. A cocksure upstart from Four who had the world at his feet.

“Oh. On the contrary, Mister Odair. That is exactly why we are here. Your birthday. We’ve brought you a gift.”

My heart, which was pounding with fear in my throat, was now sinking. No one wanted “a gift” from Coriolanus Snow.

“A gift?”, I am fighting desperately to keep the mood light, even as I imagine that for whatever reason he is about to have me killed just feet away from Mags and Annie, “You shouldn’t have.”

Snow takes a seat in a tall blue velvet chair just next to the window and crosses his knees, his long cane laying across them.

“Oh but if course, Finnick. And it’s a gift you can’t refuse.”

He smiles but his voice reveals something much much more sinister. 

I can’t refuse.

As I’m watching him one of the Peacekeepers is taking my spear. Another stands at the front door, one more at the foot of the stairs.

It’s only then that I notice someone else in the room. In the tall blue chairs that face Snow with their high backs concealing anyone sitting in them, I notice someone else cross and uncross their legs and I wonder why I’m just noticing them and why Snow hasn’t addressed them either.

The tall, hooded figure of someone that looks female stands and Snow nods lightly at them before they turn to me. Reaching to pull the hood I recognize her immediately. Tigris. One of the Capitol’s most famous and sought after designers. I feel myself staring at her uncomfortably. Her surgical alterations are even more grotesque this close. I’d only seen her on broadcasts or from across the room at Victor Tours. But this close I can barely make sense of her. What is real and what isn’t. She looks more animal than human. A strange exotic creature that is studying me as much as I am studying her and it’s making me unbelievably uncomfortable.

She doesn’t say a word but silently moves between the chairs towards me. I want to back across the room as she approaches me but I am fighting to stand my ground and continue to fake every ounce of confidence I can.

She reaches me and leans in...sniffing me much in the way an animal would. She inhales deeply at my ear.

“You are even more beautiful in person. I didn’t think it was possible.”

She runs a sharp nailed finger across my neck and I watch Snow sneer uncomfortably as if my unease is making him happy. My eyes are still on him as I feel her run her clawed hand down my chest and my body breaks out in goosebumps. She notices and chuckles. 

“Don’t be afraid.”

She purrs and her hands land on the button of my pants. She brings her other hand to it and smartly undoes it, leaving my already too loose pants hanging from my hips. I instinctively take a step back, forgetting about faking confidence and now just looking for any way out of this room. I see Snow rise from his chair as Tigris removes her robe. There is nothing under it.

Snow takes a few too many steps in my direction as I am struggling to redo my pants. He flicks his cane in my direction and it snaps against my hands. My knuckles. I drop my hands like a child who got caught in the cookie jar. I’m trying not to look at Tigris, the three of us forming a toxic triangle. 

“Tigris is your birthday present. You’ve grown from a brave young boy to a fine young man, Finnick. Just fine. And there isn’t a person in the Capitol who wouldn’t want the pleasure of such a fine man’s company. So, Tigris is going to help you learn just how to give them what they want. You’ll be very, very happy. And we will take care of you, your family....”

He gestures up the stairs, past the armed guard. My family. He knows they are all I have. 

Tigris has closed the space between us and her hand is once again working at the button of my pants and this time they fall over my hips and land on the floor. I shudder and wince but I don’t refuse her. I decide I can try to talk my way out of it.

“I am very flattered by such an offer. And such a...gift...but I think I’m of better use here in Four. Training your tributes. Raising victors...”

Snow laughs. A hearty laugh. That stops unnaturally.

“This is not a request, Finnick. And you aren’t training victors. You are playing house in a home that the Capitol provides. You have nothing here. Including the two people sleeping upstairs. They are here because we have allowed them to be. And if you want to keep it that way, you will accept this gracious gift, and continue to keep the people of your district safe. Are we clear?”

He eyes the Peacekeeper at the stairs who brandishes a gun which he clicks against his open palm. I watch him and then look up the stairs. I think I whisper Annie’s name but I’m not sure because all at once Tigris’ hand has found it’s way into my underwear and her cold hand has wrapped itself around me. She purrs and coos and presses her naked body against my side.

Snow sits. Watching. He orders me quietly to take my shirt off, which I do after eyeing the guard at the stairs. I swallow hard and pull the shirt over my shoulders and toss it aside. Tigris’ hand is moving quicker in my lap and I roll my head back trying to think about what I am supposed to do. I can feel myself getting hard and I all at once hate myself for it and know it’s what I have to do to keep that guard at the foot of the stairs and not the top of them. 

Snow orders her to take my underclothes off in a voice that suggests he is...enjoying watching. I pinch my eyes closed and try to imagine I’m somewhere else. Anywhere else. Upstairs with Annie curled into my side and not the altered body of this barely human....monster.

“Oh he’s delicious, Coriolanus. Simply perfect, larger than I imagined. He will do wonderfully.”

She starts kissing and licking and biting my neck as she talks. She’s tugging on me with a hand that moves all at once up and down and in circles. I feel a heat in the pit of my stomach that I haven’t felt before and I curse myself again. 

“The table.”

Snow barks the words and I refuse to make eye contact with him. If this is about to happen the only thing that could possibly make it any more of a nightmare is the idea that he will be sitting just a few feet away watching while it does. 

Tigris takes my hand and leads me through the room to the large table. She crawls onto it anomalistically until she is spread out on her back, her entire tiger striped body on display, heaving with passion, her hands touching herself...her breasts, her thighs.

“Come on, boy...” she whispers to me, gutturally. 

I kneel next to her on the table, unsure what to do next. Wishing somehow someone would save me. Stop this. But who? I take care of the people here. All of them. Including the two upstairs. I remember Mags telling me they told her not to come back down and I silently thank God because of all the horrors she has witnessed...she doesn’t need this one.

Tigris grabs my thigh and pulls me down on to her, pushing her own legs between mine and then reopening them. She reaches between us and takes me in her hand again. 

“It’s ok to be nervous. I like that your nervous. But your body will know what to do....” I am suddenly taken with the idea that this is not the first time Tigris has done this, what with the ease with which she seems to know what to do to me. She takes her hand and moves me to her opening and I close my eyes. I’m trying desperately to be someone or somewhere else. I think of Annie and try to imagine it’s her under me the way I have daydreamed. But even that can’t seem to move me from my current prison. I feel my hips lower with the help of a long cold cane on my backside. And I’m inside of her.

The next few minutes are a blur. I’m moving furiously mostly daring myself to end it as soon as possible. At one point She pulls from under me, only to lay me on my back and straddle my waist to take me inside of her again. Screaming my name and I’m silently begging her to shut the fuck up because I don’t want Mags and Annie to have even an inkling about what is happening. She’s bucking me like a horse and occasionally Snow barks an order for me to help...to enjoy it more...to look at her...

Finally, overcome with the strange sensation of being pulled and tugged inside of her body, I feel my body tighten and shudder as I feel myself flood her. Fluid from my body fills and then spills from her and I’m breathing hard and covered with sweat and my eyes are starting to see spots. My mouth hangs open at the sensation as my body jerks and tenses. She leans down on to me and grabs my face as it happens, shoving her long tongue into my mouth in a way that feels more violating than anything else she has done. She’s crushing into me, her body convulsing around me as she kisses me too hard, biting and pulling at my lips and tongue. Whispering how beautiful I am and how good I feel. 

I want to throw up. 

I feel her tighten on me and she is screaming again. This time into my mouth. Telling me how good I am, begging me not to stop. I hear Snow murmuring yes over and over. I can feel the eyes of the Peacekeepers, too.

She collapses on me and lays there a long while, both of us breathing impossibly hard, our bodies covered with sweat. I’ve turned my head toward the corner of the room that is empty and I feel a tear escape the corner of my eye. Snow is at our side and hands her her robe. She slinks off of me wordlessly and covers herself before heading to the door. Snow stands over me, and I’m too lost to even feel ashamed or embarrassed of what I might look like.

“Wonderful work. I am so very excited for the people of the Capitol to get to experience you. We will leave in the morning. Get you a prep team and then right to work. Do sleep well. You’ll need your rest.”

He runs his cane over my chest and he’s gone. They are all gone. I hear the door shut and I still haven’t taken my eyes off the corner of the room. I let them trace the wall until they fall on the doorway that leads to the kitchen. I close my eyes hard and will myself to travel back in time to dinner. Just a few hours ago. When everything felt perfect. 

I pull myself onto my side and with no warning at all I vomit all over the floor. The first time it’s the entire contents of my dinner and then several other dry heaves that produce nothing. I vomit so hard my sides ache and I whimper as I realize I’m crying too. I hear Mags coming down the stairs and shout as loud as I ever have for her to not move. 

I roll off the table and onto the floor, careful not to crawl through the contents from my stomach. I pull myself into the bathroom and close the door, sitting naked on the floor. I pull my knees into my chest and bury my face in them. What the hell do I do now? Where do I go? My head spins. Can I flee by water with Mags and Annie? They’d find us. We all have trackers. I look around the bathroom for a way to just off myself right there wondering if they would leave the two of them alone if I was gone. But if I don’t go...will they come for Annie next?

I know what I have to do. Snow made it very clear that it isn’t a choice. In fact I don’t know how many choices I have left. 

I still myself as I hear Mags come down and I curse her under my breath. She is padding lightly around the great room and I can only imagine the scene that was left behind. I hear her footsteps approach the bathroom and see their shadows under the door. She stops. I sense her press herself against the door and I start to sob uncontrollably but silently. I can hear her gently sniffling through the door. Whatever I’m about to go through I know it will have to be alone. I can never and will never burden either one of them with this. Even as I think this...I know that Mags probably already has it pieced together. 

I hear her walk to the kitchen and the water is running. I quickly compose myself, grabbing a towel to soak in the sink and furiously rub it all over as if I know I’ll never be clean again. I check that she is occupied as I make a break for the stairs, slipping down the hall instead of back through the room I came from. I’m still naked and moving stealthily as I get upstairs. I look down the hall to Annie’s room before making the decision to go into my own. In the morning they will be coming back for me, and I just don’t think I can bear to look at her right now.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Four: Annie POV

I remember the first time Finnick had left for the Capitol, with no idea of when he would come back. It wound up being two weeks. Two weeks that Mags spent reminding me that he loved me. ‘Ooooh how much he loves you sweet Annie’, she would say. And I knew she meant it. I knew he meant it. But the gnawing insecurity of who I had become made me struggle to believe it or understand why. Mags always tried to care for me the way he did while he was gone. But I never really relaxed or rested while he was away. And Mags would insist I stayed around the house because without him I struggled to control impulses like crying, screaming, laughing. He was my rock. He was my rope.

The first time he came back from a Capitol trip I remember hearing Mags rush to greet him at the door. I was upstairs sitting at my window, watching the water. I remember feeling as afraid to see him as I was anxious. I remember twisting my fingers in my skirt as I walked to the top of the stairs. I could see her stroking him as he sat his bags down. She smoothed his hair. She cried. She held his face. She asked what he needed, if it was ok. If he was ok. 

Mags knew.

I just remember seeing the blankness on his face. Not sadness and not happiness. Just...nothing. Like he was looking right through her. 

I eased down a few stairs and one of them creaked. I bit my lip as they both turned to face me. I stood still almost unable to move even though every fiber of my being wanted to run to him the way I always had. He saw it, too. The blankness in his face disappeared as he looked up at me. Mags scooted aside and Finnick walked slowly up the stairs towards me, stopping a few just below me. 

“God. How I missed your face, Annie Cresta.”

He whispered through a smile and I let myself practically fall down the stairs and into his arms. He caught me swiftly, of course, and then cradled me across his body and carried me back up the stairs. I nuzzled his neck and he covered my hair in kisses. We reached my room and he eased me gently into bed seamlessly as he slid right in beside me. 

I tucked neatly into him and unbuttoned two of his buttons to press my cheek to his chest. He ran his fingers through my hair and hummed. I remember thinking I was so glad he was back to take care of me. To be with me. I didn’t realize at the time that I might be taking care of him.

It just never even crossed my mind. How could I not have seen it?

And now I was standing before him, naked, and asking him - no, begging him - to kiss me. Knowing how hard that request might me. 

I close the space between us entirely. Pressing my whole self wantingly into him before asking,

“Is it ok?”

He nods slowly but assuredly. I take his face in my hands, handling him the same way he always handles me. I stroke his cheeks and the hair at his temples before following with my mouth...planting small and tender kisses all over his face. Saving his mouth for last.

When I reach it it’s warm. Soft. I barely touch his lips at first. He kisses back with a matched gentility, the same way he kisses my hand or forehead. It’s sweet and simple and perfect. His arms are around my waist and I feel him pull me into him closer as his tongue slowly eases it’s way into my mouth. I match him again, Rolling my tongue against him and moaning into his mouth as his kiss picks up heat and intensity. I grab his shoulders to keep my balance as my entire body, though naked in this cold concrete room, is on fire.

Suddenly he pulls back from me, gasping for air and pinching his eyes shut tight. He’s fighting. And I don’t want him too.

I’m suddenly thrust into another memory. 

It was my last day of training for the Games. It had become very apparent to me that I would not survive. I spent my evenings writing letters to people I would miss. Journaling my experience. I left the training center dejected. Mostly because as I left I passed Finnick and the other tribute from Four talking and planning, plotting and laughing. He would barely look at me.

As I got in the elevator to ride to my room, Finnick just barely cleared the closing door. He stood too close to me.

“Hey.”

He said, out of breath from the jog he took to catch me.

“Oh, hey.”

I answered back not even wanting to make eye contact.

“You looked good in there today.”

His voice was earnest but I just laughed. I pulled my hair into a pony tail and shook my head.

“Look, fuck you, Finnick Odair. You think I’m blind? You don’t give a shit about me. You know like everyone else in that room today that I don’t have a prayer out there. So if you think you’re going to start being nice to me now so that when I’m dead you can tell everyone how close we were...you can kiss my ass.”

I really let him have it in a way that not even I saw coming. And by the grace of God the elevator door opened and not even caring what floor it was...I jumped out. 

Not surprisingly he followed me and grabbed my arm, hard, as the door shut behind us.

“Hey...” he turned me and forced me to look at him. There was something different about his face. It was softer, sadder.

“Look you’re right, I’ve been an asshole and I know saying sorry isn’t enough. I just, I can’t, I don’t know. How to do this. To mentor. What to...do for you.”

“You mean how to save my life?” I say, trying not to cry.

“Don’t.”

He puts his hand on my face. He’s never touched me and for a second we both stop still in time. He takes his hand away fast, as if the action caught him by surprise.

“Don’t cry. In the arena. On your way tomorrow. You can’t let them think you’re weak. You aren’t, Annie. I’ve seen you. But if they think you are they will want you out of their way. Cry where they can’t see you and then get yourself back together. Promise me?”

I nod slowly. What an odd piece of advice from possibly the world’s worst mentor.

“Is that what you did? Hid your crying?” I wonder if he’s even capable of tears. Of real emotion. He steps into me and touches my cheek again, catching a tear as it falls from my eye.

“You’re From District Four. Hide in the water, no one will see you cry there. Just...swim. Whatever happens. Swim. Ok?”

His face is so close I can feel his breath and for a second I think he might kiss me. He shakes himself free from the moment and clears his throat, pulling his hand from my cheek.

“You’re gonna be ok, Annie. You just...stay in the water as much as you can.”

Stay in the water. Safe in the water. Did he know that those words would literally save my life?

I’m watching him pinch his eyes closed to the pain of his present and over his shoulder I notice a small bathroom adjoins this cell. There’s a shower. 

Stay in the water. Safe in the water. Cry...in the water. 

I move my hands from his shoulders and down the length of his arms until I have his hands on mine. He blinks his eyes open as I turn him...walking him towards the shower. Hoping maybe it can save both of us.


End file.
